


Of The Shadows

by Ruffiticus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Trans Male Character, transphobia mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 07:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruffiticus/pseuds/Ruffiticus
Summary: A young apprentice (yourself) may just find the excitement in life they've always dreamed of.





	Of The Shadows

Spring is the season of change and growth. With the flowers in the trees comes the cries of newborns and mothers alike. The air is crisp, but unlike the nip of winter, spring has a soft gentleness to it. In all, it’s the perfect season to follow a harsh, cold eternity of snow.

You awoke to a blue jay perched on a branch outside your window, singing a sweet song to ease you from your sleep. The first day of spring was upon you, and you had a lot of work to do. You first set about cleaning your room- sweeping the dust away and out from under the rug, throwing your clothes from the night before into the wash basin, scrubbing the mirror free of smudge marks and handprints- before you got into the real work.

The upstairs was dirty enough for five people with clothes strewn about every available surface in the house. Most of it belonged to Efra- your master- you noted in annoyance. That man was ten years older than you- even more, by elf maturity- and he couldn’t find the clothes hamper? You left a swathe of cleanliness in your wake as you walked from your room to his, mumbling under your breath the entire way.

“Master!” you called as you kicked the door. “It’s dawn!” A heavy groan sounded from behind the door, earning a roll of your eyes. “Yes, it’s spring! I’ve cleaned your clothes from the floor, I need help getting the first stew ready.” You then heard a few dull creaks and a sigh as Efra padded to the door. With a small whine, the door opened and revealed your master to you.

Tall as ever, he loomed over you, his striking orange eyes clouded with the fog of sleep. You could hardly see in the dim light of dawn, but the faintly glowing tattoos set into his deep olive skin provided enough light to afford you a view of his body. Without his shirt on, you could see he hadn’t been lying about toning his muscles. It was strange to work his body when the most physical labor he ever did was lift heavy boxes, you thought, but it was nice to know he had a hobby other than brewing broths and soups.

Without a word, you shoved the clothes into his arm and gave him a smile. “Chores are done for the morning, just need to clean those and start the stew.” You were met with a sleepy grumble before he sulked off to the garden to wash his clothes. Pleased with yourself, you set to washing up in the bathroom. After you had bathed and dressed, you took a look in the mirror and sighed at what you saw.

In the silver reflection of the mirror you saw what you’d always seen: your visage was marked by the large, dark mark over your right eye. It trailed from your brow down to your cheek, then to the side of your face to your ear, and all the way down your neck; it was a grim reminder of how alone you were in the world.

“Last of your kind, kid,” you muttered to yourself. A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Efra was in the doorway, clothed now, with a frown tugging at his lips.

“Lily flower, what troubles you? You wouldn’t be troubling yourself over your birth, would you?” You loved the winding way Efra spoke, but you wished he would say things in plain terms more often than he did.

“No, I...” You trailed off, taking another forlorn look into the mirror. Your shoulders dropped before you shook your head in defiance. “It’s alright. Can’t change it, can I?” Efra looked concerned, but smiled nonetheless.

“The leaves of the past line the road of tomorrow.”

-

The both of you descended the stairs once you were dressed and ready for the day, you with your coat, satchel, and coinpurse, Efra in his flowy cloak and headband.

“You know which stores carry these items, yes, cherry blossom?” he asked as he handed you your shopping list for the day. Crow toes, frog’s eye, catfish whisker- normal stuff. You nodded until you read an ingredient you’d never heard of before.

“Thistlebeak powder?”

“Ah, yes, a special ingredient. Ask Stralo for directions to the shop he gets his crystals from. I can’t remember the woman’s name, but she has what we need. Be fleet, and may Tymir guide you.” With that, he gave you a wave and began his work.

The town outside was colorful, as it always was during the spring. Bright banners hung across the walkways, the royal insignia shone on every street corner, and colorful cherry blossom petals littered the ground between cobblestones. A horse-drawn carriage strode past you, and the driver flashed you a smile as he did every morning. It had taken a few years, but you finally felt at home here.

Your steps were automatic, almost making the rounds for you in your pursuit of your daily ingredients. Crow toes at Myrna’s place, frog’s eye and catfish whisker at the Mindelorias’, and then…

“Thistlebeak powder,” you mused. That sounded too ashy for a soup, but perhaps it was just a streetname? You knew about wallsmacker and underthrush being names for poppy seeds and pickled onions respectively, so it could be that it was a common ingredient made to sound exotic to outside ears.

Stralo’s house was in the back of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of the main plaza where your house was located. You walked through the dwarven district, cut through the elven ward, and finally you were there, in the Black Mire. It wasn’t really a part of your city, but it was close enough that everyone called it the marsh district; mainly dragonkin, lizardfolk, and the occasional civilized goblin lived here, but you’ve met some humans from around here, too.

Finding the dilapidated shack your crystal merchant lived in was no easy feat, as every house in the marsh district looked exactly the same to some degree. You had to use a little rhyme Efra had taught you to remember where it was.

“A hop and a skip from the front of the bog, then turn left two times and walk past the dog,” you muttered into the damp air. Sure enough, past the house with a little white dog tied to a post out front sat a little hut, and on the porch outside the hut sat your dragonkin friend.

“Stralo!” you called, raising a hand in greeting. He returned in kind and stood from his rocking chair. “How goes life?”

“Well,” he replied in his cracked, rumbling voice. “Uzo is still flitting about after the wedding. Can’t sleep a wink with him babbling on about our future children.”

You smiled. “Ah, yes, I remember your wedding. Did he ever get that cake out of his gowns after that food fight you two had?” you asked, smile now a smirk. Stralo laughed heartily and shook his head.

“No, he still has a red streak cutting across his robe. I have a feeling we’re going to be buying new ones soon enough, his family has asked us to repeat the ceremony out in their homeland.” His grin soothed your heart. Perhaps there was a chance for you if an old, cranky lizard like him could find love. “But you didn’t come to listen to an old wyrm rattle on about his life. What brings you, broodling?”

“Glad you asked. Efra brought me out here to ask you how to get to the shop you buy your crystals from.”

“Ah, Efra’s sending you out to do his dirty work for him, eh?” Stralo chuckled deep in his chest, a light tendril of smoke billowing from his nostrils. “Keep going down this path, she’s the last house on the left. Real kind old drow, name’s Bredra. Tell her I said hello.”

With that, you were off after a few goodbyes. The house in question was unlike the others in that it felt more… quaint. It was made of a light wood with red shutters, had a garden out front, and was generally well kept. The door itself was almost intimidating, having the nerve to look so pristine in this neighborhood. You mustered up all the courage you could and knocked.

Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, the door opened. You saw past the door into the house, and just a bit below eye level was the form of an elderly drow woman. Her ebony skin contrasted greatly with her piercing scarlet eyes, which in turn contrasted with the kindly look she had to her face.

“Ah, you must be Efra’s ward. Come, I’ve been expecting you.” Bredra stepped aside to welcome you into her home, which you had to say was as alarmingly cozy inside as it was outside. Doilies lined the shelves and surfaces of tables throughout the home. Her floor was of a soft pink wood, and like the outside, red curtains hung from each window.

“Did he say I was coming? I can’t imagine he would send a letter without coming out here himself.” You took a seat on a chair and repressed a cough as a cloud of dust billowed up around you.

“No, my child, the stars told me of your visit. You need thistlebeak powder, yes?”

Your mouth hung agape.

“How could you...” She smiled as you trailed off.

“There are powerful magics in this world, child, and I am a medium of the divining arts. I ask, and the stars tell. Now, your powder.” She shuffled into what you assumed was the kitchen before returning with a small sack in her hands. “Be extremely careful. This is refined explosive powder, and you are not to drop this, you understand?”

Your eyes were blown wide at her instructions. “What does Efra need an explosive agent for? We make soups, not dynamite.”

At that, Bredra chuckled. “Oh, my child, you have not seen the entire night sky yet. The stars will guide you as they do me, if you only look to them for guidance. Now, how do you like your tea?”

-

The trek back home was dark, yet uneventful. It was a clear, cloudless night, and the last pinks of the horizon shone beautifully against the first glimmers of the stars in the distance; against the backdrop of the sky stood the castle in the center of the city, tall and dark atop the brilliant orange-pink of the sunset. Bredra’s words came back to you.

_The stars will guide you..._

Your gaze shifted up with a sigh. Could the stars tell you anything? You searched for a shape, a line, _anything_ to lend credence to the woman’s words, but you saw nothing. Perhaps you just weren’t magical like she was.

Just then you connected harshly with another figure and fell back, frantically grabbing for your bag of powder to clutch it to your chest. Once you’d landed, you looked up and grit your teeth.

“Hey! What-” You saw the crest on the man’s uniform and instantly shut your mouth. The crest depicted two birds fighting over a vine with a staff separating the two halves. The Royal Crest. “I- I’m so sorry, I wasn’t--”

The man picked you up easily by the front of your shirt to bring you to his eye level. He was a half-orc, you guessed, perhaps part ogre? His skin was a light purple and his tusks a stained brown. His intense brown eyes stared into yours as he growled deep in his chest.

“Watch it,” he hissed, throwing you to the ground. You clumsily managed to stay on your feet after the unceremonious drop. Looking into your hands, you were glad to have kept hold of the bag. The orc quirked a brow and gestured to your hands. “Wassat?”

“Oh, um. Soup supplies,” you said, voice quivering. “I work under Efra the stew chef.”

He grunted. “You’re that girly boy, yeah?” His words stung, but you’d heard worse.

“Yessir.”

“Hm. Go on, then.” The man pointed his pike toward the city and you nodded hastily. The royal guard made you nervous on good days, paranoid on bad.

It took you until the moon was halfway through its cycle to get home; much as you hated to admit it, you often got lost in the city at night. Nothing but time and practice will fix that, you figured. Once you reached your doorstep, you knocked four times, then jiggled the handle twice. The door opened a moment later to show Efra’s smiling face.

“Ah, you’re back.” Efra stepped aside to allow you entrance. The door was locked behind you as you shed your outing apparel. “How was your outing?”

You talked with Efra over dinner, telling him how many cats you’d seen today and other similar trivialities before you suddenly fell silent. He looked at you with wise eyes.

“Honeybee, something is troubling you.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his.

“Please, don’t keep your sadness hidden. Letting it fester will bring nothing but pain.”

He was right, and you knew it. With a sigh, your gaze lifted to his.

“I’m not a girl.”

“Yes, I know this. Did someone tell you otherwise?”

You explained the situation with the guard and how it had upset you, and Efra cooed and cupped your cheek in his hand.

“You know I’ve always thought of you as my child, yes? You are my son, and you are a handsome young man to boot.”

He always knew how to make you feel better. You smiled and nodded before standing from your chair.

“Thank you, master. I’ll clean the dishes tonight so you can sleep.”

-

The sounds of night surrounded you as you cleaned; night creatures chittering, overhead owls hooting, and the nightlife of the town murmuring through the kitchen window. You saw the lights of the event plaza down the way twinkling in the dark, figures moving beneath them for the annual spring festival. Maybe one of these years you could attend, but for tonight you had housekeeping to do.

It was when the moon was at its highest that you decided your cleaning was done for the night. With a wide yawn you ascended the stairs to your room, eyes heavy and body ready for the warm embrace of your bed. You padded to the door and swung it open, meeting the shadow-cast inside of your room. Your gut twisted, though, tying your stomach in knots. Something was off.

You scanned the room as you silently entered, watching for any movement that may indicate an intruder. Your bed was clear, the window was shut, and you had sworn that you’d locked the door before leaving this morning.

It was the slam of the door that caught your attention.

You made to turn, but the cold metal blade of a knife suddenly pressing against your throat coupled with the strong headlock you’d been snapped into stopped you in your tracks.

“Ah, ah, ah,” a deep voice breathed into your ear. “You’re not going anywhere, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> ah so this is my first original work, please be nice! let me know what you guys think!!


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